


now the aftermath will ring with songs you've sung

by honeycastella



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief, Oneshot, SPOILERS: eps 6-9, mentions of blood and death, theo mourning fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24793360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeycastella/pseuds/honeycastella
Summary: that first night on la fondue, theobald dreams of lapin.
Relationships: Theobald Gumbar & Lapin Cadbury
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	now the aftermath will ring with songs you've sung

that first night on _la fondue_ , theobald dreams of lapin.

he supposes he should have expected that. the cathedral, for all it feels like it was a lifetime ago, had only happened that morning. lapin hasn't even been dead for twenty-four hours yet.

the dream is nothing more than a smattering of images, fleeting and over-saturated. moments where he and lapin had crossed paths or spoken, insignificant little memories that mean everything, now. the dream settles on a mundane scene from a few years ago: the two of them walking to the throne room together after having been summoned by king amethar and queen caramelinda. it is silent and dull and unremarkable, but theo would go back to it in a heartbeat if he could.

at some point the castle becomes the cathedral and theobald jolts awake, smelling the cloying sweetness of chocolate lifeblood and feeling sick to his stomach.

(later, ruby will ask if he is alright, and he will blame it on the rocking of the ship.

she will not believe him.)

* * *

it is a small mercy, theobald thinks some days later, that he did not see what was left of lapin's body.

he had seen a shape, warped and discolored through the stained glass windows of that wretched church. a mass of mottled brown, unmoving. the splatter of blood that had come next had been so - so _dark_ against the glass, and theo remembers the sharp crack that had preceded it, clear and stark even from outside.

(just imagining the sound makes him flinch, even now.)

a large wave batters the ship, dragging theo back to the present. cumulous is watching him strangely from across the room, and all of a sudden theobald is filled with an anger that is so unlike him, a prickly kind that makes him feel smothered and small, and he wants to lash out at the monk, to snap and curse and demand to be left alone.

he does none of those things, of course. it would be cruel, and cumulous does not deserve it.

instead, he rises and excuses himself from the room. he tries not to think about lapin's dead body, abandoned on the cathedral floor.

he fails.

* * *

the days blur together on the _fondue_. theobald has fallen into a routine: wake up, eat breakfast. assist the crew up on deck. plan and strategize with the others. clean armor. realize that the sound of yogurt splashing against the boat sounds a lot like lifeblood splattering on a window. acknowledge the guilt that sits in your throat. spend leisure time with the others, boost morale. sleep. repeat.

eighteen days suddenly feels like a very long time.

* * *

some nights, theobald thinks that maybe, if he could do it all again, he could have gotten everyone out alive.

it’s a useless thing to wish for, he knows. he’s a soldier, a knight, and knows better than anyone that it is pointless to wish that a battle had gone differently because it is done and finished and there is nothing anyone can do to change that. knowing something and practicing it are two different things, however, and so he indulges his regret and imagines a world where everything went perfectly. where lapin is alive, and in the next room over.

these musings never last long before his pragmatic side kicks in and reminds him that they were doomed from the start. the whole event had been a trap – what could he have done?

 _more_ , theo thinks anyway, heart clenched. _i could have done more._

* * *

it is their last day on _la fondue_. they’d made it to the cola river some time ago, and theo can even see castle candy in the distance from his spot on the deck. he’s eager to be on dry land again; his near-death in the yogurt shoals has left him with a distrust of open sea that he hadn’t managed to shake.

distantly, he wonders if lapin had ever been sailing.

the ship docks in port syrup well into the evening, and it fills theobald with sweet relief to be back home. the citizens seem welcoming enough, for the most part, and they are able to walk the streets without incident. it’s strange, though, even now, to live and move around this empty space that lapin had left behind; theo thought he’d made peace with the chancellor’s death on the ship, but something about being back in candia makes lapin’s absence even worse, even more apparent.

theo shakes his head. he has done enough dwelling, enough sighing, enough thinking. the cathedral is long behind them. now, they are home, and they are safe, and if theo keeps expecting to see chocolate in his peripheral vision, well, that’s just the way things are, now. he’ll have to learn to live with it.

but theobald’s frustration with himself turns out to be unwarranted, because he isn’t the only one thinking about lapin tonight; ruby wordlessly leads them to the grotto of the sugar plum fairy, where she takes a small piece of parchment out of her doublet and places it underneath a cracked lavender teacup. he doesn’t have to look to know that lapin’s handwriting is on it.

the five of them stand there in silence, remembering. liam goes off and returns with a peppermint bark seed that he sets in the teacup with a quiet, “for preston.” theobald’s heart breaks for him and ruby and jet, these children who are knowing loss for the first time in their lives, and they are different kinds of losses, of course — little preston had been liam’s best friend, and lapin had only been their teacher — but there is still something strange and terrible about losing someone you have known your whole life. even if you were never close. 

theobald himself had never been particularly close to lapin, but the trip to comida had changed things. maybe that’s why it hurts so much, theo muses. why he can’t stop thinking about it, no matter how much he wants to. the loss of all that the two of them will never be.

_i misjudged you, chancellor._

_oh, shut up._

a breeze ruffles through the trees and the air smells of chocolate and sugar plum.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic in years, so i hope you liked it! i just really wanted to write about someone mourning lapin and all that that entails. i drew on my own experiences with grief to write this so i hope it felt real and authentic. i didn't have a beta for this, so if you spot any typos, feel free to let me know so i can fix it!
> 
> the title comes from the song 'little soldiers' by the crane wives! great song, go check it out
> 
> thanks for reading! comments/kudos are appreciated! :]


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